


Where do I go from here?

by the_girl_in_the_flower_dress



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Regret, StaticQuake, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_girl_in_the_flower_dress/pseuds/the_girl_in_the_flower_dress
Summary: Daisy is struggling to cope with Lincoln's death, and blames herself for the tragedy.





	Where do I go from here?

**Author's Note:**

> I expanded on the short scene we got after the season 3 finale/ start of season 4, where Daisy isolates herself from the team in order to find a way to cope with Lincoln's death.

I looked in the mirror, more out of habit than necessity, I’d done this so many times before. I stared into my own eyes as I smudged the black eye-shadow round each one, then expertly applied a line of eyeliner, each wing identical. I traced the slowly-healing gash on my cheekbone, now mostly concealed with makeup, the dark, angry red mark still standing out on my pale face. I couldn’t even remember how it had happened.

I sighed quietly, for no particular reason. I’d probably leave this flat today, if my calculations were correct, the owners would be returning home tomorrow, and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. Not that they knew I was here, obviously. That’s how I’d been living recently, breaking into empty homes every now and again if I craved the comfort, sleeping rough, or staying in some pretty shady places, with equally shady people. I shuddered at the memory of a couple of them, when I’d only just escaped some dangerous situations, even with my defences. Then again, everything I did nowadays was reckless and dangerous.

I grabbed the rest of my makeup and toiletries, then silently packed my few clothes into my bag. I took a last look around the room, making sure it was as it was when I’d arrived, pulling on my fishnet gloves as I did so. I tried hard not to cry out with the pain, but a little wince escaped my lips, and I pressed them together tightly.

The state of my arms was getting worse every time I used my powers, but I felt like I deserved the pain. They were stained with bruises, old and new, and my bones felt as brittle as glass. I didn’t bother to bind them though, not today. Why did I deserve the relief? After everything I’d done?

I slung my bag over my shoulder and locked the door with the spare keys I’d found under a plant pot in the front garden. I’d come to realise that people could be extremely trusting if they had nothing to hide from.

 

I had a job to do today and hoped it would do something to bring some goodness back into my life. I spotted the girl, Robin, and her mother, Polly, on a bench in the street, and stood to the side, waiting, looking at them through a sheet of hair.

“I wanted to thank you.” The woman said, opening the conversation. “The money was too generous. It helped us relocate… I was treated as a pariah, back home.”

I turned to face them, my eyes drawn to the little girl. I tried to arrange my features into something that wouldn’t frighten her, but somehow, seeing the innocence in the little girl’s face, a shy smile crept through anyway. I crouched down and held out the wood-carved bird in my hand.

“Do you like animals?” She nodded timidly, self-consciously playing with her cardigan. “Your dad made this. It’s a robin... like you.”

Robin took it, still not wanting to make eye-contact. That was ok; she was young, and I was new and intimidating.

“You’ve been a real friend.” Her mother smiled. A thought sprung into my head.

“I actually wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine.” I gave a sly smile. “He has a practice near here. I think you’d get along.” I tickled Robin’s knee, making her giggle. “He likes animals too.”

“You’re too kind.” For some reason, her words hit me hard. My smile faltered.

“I’m just keeping a promise.”

 

I turned my back on them without saying anything else, pulling on my jacket at the same time. I walked away, keeping my head down, although I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. Black hair, dark clothes and beanie, dark makeup, and black fishnet sleeves down to my fingers, a hard expression to hide any emotion. If I didn’t try so hard to bury my feelings, I’d drown in them. Sometimes, I barely recognised myself anymore.

A heavy car screeched around the corner and several car horns beeped in protest. I threw a look over my shoulder and cursed under my breath. S.H.I.E.L.D., it had to be. I quickened my pace but didn’t bother to break into a run. They wouldn’t catch me. I turned off sharply into an alleyway, but they were too far away for me to be worried.

I paused, then leant down, summoning my powers. I felt them burst out of my hands, directly into the floor. I was careful about the pressure I applied, it had to be just right. I tensed in preparation. A second later, my gift propelled me high into the air and I felt a rush of exhilaration, watching the ground stretch away from me. As I left the ground, I heard a voice.

“Seal the perimeter, but you won’t find her.” The sound of the voice, so familiar, yet so alien to me now, made me lose my concentration, and I misjudged my landing a little. I landed with a thud on the rooftop, sending a shock through my ankles. I stumbled but managed to regain my balance. I ran to the edge of the rooftop, and without hesitating, leapt through the air, relying on the momentum of the sprint, and my powers, to get me safely across.

I kept it up for a couple of blocks, reaching an abandoned warehouse, the door to the stairwell partly open and hanging off its hinges. I collapsed against the wall, trying to get my breath back, but forced myself to crawl inside the doorway so that I was out of sight. I pulled my beanie hat off my head, shaking out my hair, then sat massaging my hands, sharp pains darting up and down my arms. I knew that I was causing myself more damage, but I had to use my powers. Instead of binding them, I fumbled through my bag and took out a bottle of painkillers, and the bone regrowth pills from Elena. I appreciated them more than I let on, but I think she knew that.

I swallowed a couple dry, then went to put them back in my bag. As I did, my fingers brushed something solid, and I flinched away from it like it was hot. But after a moment’s hesitation, I reached back down and pulled it out. The item was bundled in one of my flannel shirts to keep it safe, and with slightly shaky hands, I unravelled it.

 

The smell hit me straight away, and I had to stop, the abundance of memories it carried punching me straight in the stomach. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut. It was a bottle of Lincoln’s aftershave, that I took in a moment of weakness along with a couple of other things, from his room before I left. I hadn’t opened the lid, or even touched the bundle that I’d wrapped it in, for weeks, months even. It was too painful.

I’d awoken to the smell the first time I’d met him, after being brought to Afterlife. I remembered thinking that it was a little too strong, as if to conceal his insecurities. That had been the first thing I’d noticed before I’d opened my eyes, the fresh, attractive scent that I’d eventually come to love. _Love_. I squeezed my eyes even tighter, I was not going to cry. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop the flashbacks that overwhelmed me, even with the lid still shut.

Lincoln holding my hand, sharing his gift with me on the mountain at Afterlife; the first time that I kissed him, finally giving in to my heart, breathing in his smell; his nose brushing mine as we were reunited after almost being crushed in the old castle in England; our constant arguing that I could never have imagined missing so badly; whenever he walked past me, or got out of the shower.

My eyes felt wet, and I furiously brushed the rising tears aside. I was done with breaking down. I prepared myself, and almost as a caress, removed the lid. I sniffed it gently, and a huge lump of longing rose in my throat, followed by a hand of nostalgia that gripped my chest. It had only been a few months, and sometimes I could ignore the grief and the blame, power through it. Other days, I just didn’t want to be alive, and did stupid, reckless things to drown it out, to dance on the edge of insanity.

I knew he wouldn’t want me to live like I was, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was the only thing that stopped me from ending it, and I’d debated going through with it more times than I could count. I missed my family at S.H.I.E.L.D.; May’s stern looks, and the rare hint of a smile; Coulson’s determination to never give up on me; Mack’s big brother character, always looking out for me; Fitz and the way he knew me inside out, again, like a brother; Jemma as the best friend and sister I’d never had. And Lincoln.

I swallowed. Now wasn’t the time. If I thought about it any more, I’d never get up again, and the wall I’d put up around me would collapse.

I carefully wrapped the bottle back in my shirt, and placed it in my bag, then pushed myself up off the ground. If I stayed here for much longer, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be more likely to find me, and I couldn’t face seeing Coulson again. I made my way down the stairs, leaving my jacket open, my beanie on my head, and forced open a few doorways to get outside. I’d keep a note of this place, it wasn’t a bad location to take refuge.

God knows, I always needed them.


End file.
